Heartless
by Sam King
Summary: Russia and America are in the height of the Cold War and tensions are rising. Then Ivan finds out Alfred's greatest secret, their son. The game of chess the two countries are playing are taken to new hights and Alfred must embark upon a journey not only to rescue his son from his Ivan but possibly Ivan from himself. Past m-preg. RussAmeri, PruCan some PolLiet and FrUK.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

_1961_

Alfred held his son close to his chest with his right hand as he stared in to the cold and unforgiving amethyst eyes of his enemy; in his left hand he held a cold metallic black gun ready to defend his family from the intruder. Beside him on the bed lay a girl with long brunette hair that framed her face beautifully. She looked as if she was sleeping if it wasn't for the blood that trickled down her face from the impact of his enemy's silver pipe to her forehead. She was a strong girl and Alfred was almost positive that she would survive. She had survived so much more before this. "Get out," Alfred hissed; he could feel the boy began to shake in his arms from fear. Fear Alfred had never wanted his little one to face. Peter was so tiny, though he was almost a century old he only resembled a toddler, Alfred enjoyed raising him.

"_Neyt_." Came the silver haired man's response and pointed his pipe to the small boy. "Who is he?" Alfred looked down at the silver haired boy in his arms, Peter Brangski Jones the representation of Alaska who had Ivan's silver hair and chubby build but Alfred's sky blue eyes and contagious smile. The best of both of them the other states had often remarked to Alfred. Almost all of the other states enjoyed watching the young one whenever Alfred had to leave for a World Conference or a NATO meeting or even to go off to war as had been the case ten years ago.

"He is of no concern to you." Alfred hissed back pushing Peter even further into his chest, he would be damned if Russia too him away now, not after hiding him away for the past hundred years from everybody. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what he had done, well not until nearly fifty years ago when the Soviet Union emerged and Ivan Brangski, Alfred's love, had changed into the heartless man he was now.

"He is my son." The silverette responded, "I want him now." His tone was menacing, and no nonsense the way it had been since the takeover of the Bolsheviks in 1917 in that awful October Revolution. After that his _Vanya_ had disappeared and replaced with a much colder version.

"Never," Alfred responded mustering up all his hate in that one word. Peter was the most precious thing in the world to him, his son, his only son. Ivan reached out to touch him but Alfred jerked himself backwards so that the Russian missed touching their son and caught his right arm instead.

"Give him to me." The Russian hissed and jerked the American backwards with his grip on his right arm.

"You come into my house in the middle of the nights and then demand that I give up my son to you. I don't think so. After this you're not coming within a ten foot radius of Peter." Alfred declared,

"He is my son too." He hissed

"Daddy," Peter whimpered and clung to the American, "Daddy, don't let him hurt me, Daddy." Alfred dropped the gun that now hung limp in his left hand and wrapped both arms around his crying son whispering soothing words into the boy's ear.

"I will protect you, I promise, Petya." Alfred whispered he had chosen the Russian nickname for Peter to call the boy as a pet name to remind the boy of both of his heritages. Ivan took a step back from the bed where his ex-lover lay protecting their child. And then he left leaving Alfred with only more confusion as to the interworking of his enemy's mind.

"The scary bad man is gone." Peter said and Alfred looked at his son wearily, was that how he had taught Peter to perceive his father? A scary bad man?

"Yes, but Petya, that man is your father too." Alfred said quietly as if he could hardly believe it himself. He ran his hand through Peter's silver hair to soothe the boy. He laid the boy on the bed and picked up Abigail brushing the blood from her brown bangs with his hand. She had been one of the first friends he'd ever had and they had been through a lot together. He was glad though that only she had been staying over here tonight or someone might have gotten seriously hurt.

"Did we get him Alfred, did he hurt Peter?" she whispered her green eyes revealing her connection to the settlers who had colonized her lands first and the country they had originated from.

"No, Ivan escaped, but Peter is safe." Alfred said carrying the state to the bathroom so that he could disinfect the wound she had sustained.

"I'm okay Alfred, really." Abigail protested, "You know that Theo will freak out when he finds out and then I'll have to convince him that Massachusetts can take care of itself and doesn't need New York's help." Alfred chuckled; Massachusetts and New York had two of the biggest rivalries in the history of states. Both had major cities that had been around since the colonial age that had often competed for trade and emigrants back in the day. Now days thought they maintained a healthy rivalry when it came to their baseball teams The Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees.

Alfred laid the brown bottle of alcohol beside her as he dabbed her forehead with a cotton ball soaked in the substance. She cringed slightly as the wet ball touched her open wound. "He found out about Petya, he knows the truth now." Only Abigail's green eyes gave away her surprise at the news. She was too well trained in the art of espionage to reveal feelings like that. In fact it was only that Ivan had caught her completely off guard that she'd even been injured the way she had been, every spy has an off day. Abigail's job was to protect the young boy when Alfred wasn't around and even at times when he was around; it was the job she had chosen when this whole mess started.

"Daddy, Abby, I'm scared." Peter said toddling into the bathroom; his blue eyes were filled with tears of fright from being scared that night.

"Come here Petya," Abigail said holding her arms out to the boy as Alfred pulled a ban-aid out of a drawer in the sink's stand. "Did the big scary man hurt you?" Peter shook his head and tottered over to Abigail.

"Can you watch him, Abby? I need to phone Kennedy to tell him of Russia's intrusion tonight. Plus I don't think phoning Arthur would hurt too much either." Alfred said rubbing Peter's silver hair. "Stay with Abby okay, Petya?" he said bending down on his knees to hug his son and kiss his forehead.

"Okay, Daddy." Peter agreed watching his father leave the bathroom.

"Jackie, ah yeah I know it's late." Alfred said a white phone that was connected to a white box that hung on the wall by a curling wire was tucked in between his shoulder and ear. He paused for a minute listening to the first lady response.

"What do you need, Alfred?" the woman asked, Jackie was a sweet woman and was a favorite of the people.

"I need to talk to John if he's there." John F. Kennedy his President for only about a year now, but he had inspired the people to believe in him and in America, he was definitely one of Alfred's favorite bosses.

"Yes he's here." She said, Alfred could hear noises in the background and then a deeper voice of his president.

"Hello." Was Kennedy's response,

"Russia was here tonight. He attacked Abigail and was after Peter. I'm afraid that he'll attack us next." Alfred said in a rush, standing vulnerable in the middle of his kitchen made him nervous after the night's advents.

"You mean attack the US?" Kennedy said as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes sir," Alfred said seriously doubting that he or the White House would get any sleep that night.

"Alright, I'll have the men looking for ways the Russians could possibly attack us." Alfred nodded and then the phone hung up. Then he heard Peter's cry and Alfred ran down the hallway leaving the phone hanging to find the boy.

"Daddy!" Peter cried, he was tucked into his bed but in the moon light Alfred could see the tears that ran down the boy's face. "Daddy the evil man wants to get me. He's there." Peter pointed at the open closet; cautiously Alfred peered in looking for the face of his enemy only to find Peter's clothes and toys. The boy was seeing shadows, but Alfred understood that, sometimes he saw the faces of the men he had killed and those he knew he had killed but had never seen their faces that he made up for them in the shadows at night.

"Come here, Petya." He said soothingly, holding out his arms for the boy to enter. The boy ran to him and Alfred swung him up in his arms and carried him back to his own bedroom so that they could share each other's presence as they slept.

He tucked Peter into the covers beside him trying to shake from his mind the fear of losing the boy to his most hated rival. He stroked the boy's hair before opening his mouth to sing the boy a lullaby. "Baby mine don't you cry, baby mine dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine." Alfred looked down to see Peter snuggling close to him as he sang that song from that one Disney movie with the elephants what was it again, oh yeah Dumbo. "Little one when you play, don't you mind what they say. Let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine." He looked so peaceful now that he was sleeping, as if the intrusion of Ivan only an hour ago couldn't disturb him. Children really were a joy to have around weren't they? Maybe that was why Arthur had been so desperately trying to keep him around back then. "If they knew sweet little you, they'd end up loving you too. All those same people who scold you, what they'd give for the right to hold you."

"Oh there he is," Abigail said in the doorway. "I'm gonna head to bed Alfred, I informed Theo of the situation and he's gonna be here tomorrow as extra security."

"All but of your situation right?" Alfred said, Abigail let out a huff and turned out of the bedroom. It hadn't been his decision to make all of the states who were old enough his body guards. That had been an order from Truman and none of the Presidents since really had, had the time to get rid of it at Alfred's request. The Soviets certainly kept them busy didn't they? He sighed and looked back down at Peter who was still asleep despite the interruption to his lullaby.

"From your head down to your toes, you're not much, goodness knows. You're precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine. All of those people who scold you. What they'd give for the right to hold you. From your head down to your toes, you're not much, goodness knows. But you're precious to me, sweet as can be. Baby of mine, baby of mine." As he finished the song he laid his own head down and went to sleep exhausted after the rough night with the intrusion of Ivan.

"_**Moya lyubov**_**." **_**Ivan whispered seductively, "I have missed you." He pressed Alfred into the tree and their lips met for the first time in a long time.**_

"_**Vanya" Alfred moaned wrapping his fingers in the Russian's silvery hair that he loved.**_

Alfred woke up, slightly panting and the feeling of Ivan's lips still lingered on his own. The dream had been so real and yet so very much fictious at the same time. He doubted that he and Ivan could ever go back to the time before Communism, before the Bolsheviks. "Hey Alfred," said Abigail, she had a knack of always knowing when he woke up. "Arthur's on the phone. He says it's urgent." Alfred smiled, something urgent with Arthur could mean something as little as burning a pot of tea this morning.

"Okay, I'm coming." Alfred rested his hand on his sleeping son's back. A smile formed on the sleeping boy's face making Alfred wonder if the boy could feel him even while sleeping.

He padded his way down the hall to where the phone was. " 'ello?"

"Alfred, thank heavens, they want me to work with that beast of a man." Arthur said automatically, "I don't think I can do it. There's just too much animosity between me and old frog face."

"You mean to say that you called me to tell me you don't want to work with Francis? Jeesh Arthur, tell him you love him and get over with. How long have you been in love with him? For the past I don't know forever." Alfred snapped, some might say that the rivalry Francis and Arthur had rivaled that of Alfred and Ivan's though with at least eleven hundred years more history together and plenty of wars. If their hatred for each other was still as strong today as it had been back five hundred years ago, Alfred was almost positive both countries would be at just as much of a Cold War as he and Ivan were.

"It's different then with you and Ivan. Sure you to have thrown insults at one another, but you've never really hurt each other before. Francis and I have almost killed each other before. It was a long time ago, but memories like that don't easily go away." Arthur said with a long sigh afterwards. Alfred only raised his eyebrows.

"He tried to take Peter last night." Alfred whispered staring at the blue painted wall of his kitchen. "He was in my house; he attacked Abigail and tried to take Peter. I don't know what made him leave." Only three other personifications besides his states knew the truth of Peter's heritage, they had all been with Alfred during his pregnancy with the boy, Arthur, Francis and Matthew. "I don't even know how he found out the truth."

Toris quaked in fear as the murderous rage radiated from the Russian man who had returned home late last night in said mood and had offered no explanation for his sudden absence nor had anyone asked him to divulge it either. No one remained in the room too long with him, not even Natalia who had always seemed immune to Ivan's anger. Of course Toris had his suspicions about what had aroused the Russian's anger and what had caused him to leave so quickly and even his destination.

For a brief twenty years or so, Toris had been a free man. Free to do what he wanted no longer forced to live in the same house as Ivan or his Baltic neighbors. He had been able to be with his lover Felix whenever he wanted and he had worked in Alfred's house as a way to help his country gain money in the tough economic crisis. During his time there he had met a young boy, hardly looking two years old with silver hair and sky blue eyes, who represented the territory of Alaska. His name was Peter, but Alfred often called him Petya the Russian nickname for Peter. It hadn't taken Toris very long to put two and two together as to who Peter really was. Though he had never confirmed his suspicions with Alfred, he also had never mentioned the boy at all to Ivan. But Toris was almost positive Ivan had found out about the boy and his relationship to him. And he had gone to America last night to take the boy by force from Alfred, something the proud country would never allow, in fact if Toris had heard the rumor mill correctly Alaska had become the forty-ninth state of the US and seeing as Peter was a state now there was no way Alfred would give him up without a fight.

That's not to say Toris hadn't enjoyed the time that Ivan had been away from the house. He had snuck out of the house last night himself and greatly enjoyed his night in Warsaw with Felix. And Elizaveth had whispered to him at breakfast this morning that Gilbert had snuck out of East Germany last night as well and had spent time in Canada with Matthew. How those two had even met was beyond Toris' knowledge.

"Toris," Ravis said as he visibly shook in fear, he was staring at the double doors across the hall from where the two stood. "I-I h-ha-ave t-to g-get som-some-th-thing f-from Ed-Eduard an-and-" Toris silenced the boy, the dining room was the only way to enter the kitchen where Eduard was and that was where Ivan was wrecking his havoc on the house from.

"It's okay," he said putting a hand on the younger nation's shoulder. "I'll go get it."

He entered the dining room quietly, futilely hoping that Ivan wouldn't even notice him crossing the room to get whatever Ravis needed from Eduard and back without the Russian noticing him. Of course it was pointless, Ivan's eyes followed him from the moment he walked into the room, his eyes no longer hid his murderess intent for the rest of the world. And then he moved like a lion hunting his prey towards Toris who didn't dare move. "You knew, you knew." He said as he stalked towards him. Toris swallowed what spit was left in his mouth he knew exactly what Ivan was referring to. "You knew about Peter!"

"No!" Toris said in his defense he'd never gotten confirmation his suspicions. "I knew of him, he's, he's the representation of the State of Alaska, Alfred never told me he was your son." Toris covered his mouth as he realized what he had just said. "I… I suspected. He has your silver hair." The Russian kept advancing forward, his left arm pulled back and swung. His fist connecting with the side of Toris' face and the beating had only begun. This was why Toris had never mentioned Peter to the unstable Russian, sure there had been a time when Toris could say he hadn't been afraid of him, but these past century had been filled with bloodshed and revolution after revolution no country was sane after that, just look at Francis after his revolution, he tried to conquer Europe. And he especially wouldn't tell Ivan about Peter now, knowing the truth about Ivan's heart.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and write a silly note): Hello again, this is my first RussAmer story. Yes I know that Peter is the name for Sealand as well. I forgot that when I was originally writing it, was corrected by a friend and when I tried to change the name, nothing stuck. Alfred and Ivan's son was Peter in my head. So sorry about any confusion you might have. I don't expect Sealand though to make an appearance so hopefully no harm no foul right? Please review and tell me your thoughts and comments. Remember flames are sent to the llama gods, constructive critism is welcome not the please burn your computer and never write again, that's not helpful or very constructive.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

_**1961**_

"Up Daddy, up." Peter begged his hands above his head and reaching for the country of America as the honey blond man talked quietly to the Polish nation who was taking advantage of the Russian country's absence to speak with his supposed enemy.

"It was bad Alfred; I don't know what Toris did to deserve that kind of beating." Felix said for once losing his valley girl accent that he normally used. It meant that Felix was worried or serious and this time it was both, Toris being beaten to an inch of his life by the Russian man was a cause for worry.

"That man, he's not the same man I feel in love with." Alfred said shaking his head; he smiled at the young boy who was still begging to be picked up. "Hush Petya, I'll pick you up in a second." The silver haired boy frowned and tears began to leak from his eyes. Alfred sighed and gave in picking the child up so that his smiled mimicked his American father's all big and full of joy.

"So that's like Alaska huh, I totally thought that like most of your states were in their like teens." Felix said peering at the boy before tickling his chin. "It's nice to see children states." Alfred beamed like the parent he was at Felix's compliment. "He totally looks an awful lot like Ivan though, is that because you like bought him in the Alaskan Purchase?" Alfred nodded; it was kind of the truth in a sense. On the night that the Alaskan Purchase was signed Alfred and Ivan conceived Peter though neither of them realized it at the time. Alfred knew it had to be then because Ivan left the next day to deal with something that had happened in Russia and couldn't stay for the vacation the two had planned to take.

"Hawaii, well her name is Lilo, doesn't look too much older the Peter here. Maybe eight at the most." Alfred said,

"Well I've always liked wanted children; do you like think that I could like one day like maybe have kids with Liet?" Alfred shrugged he wasn't totally sure how he and Russia managed to have Peter seeing as they were both male, he supposed it had something to do with the fact that they were countries after all.

"Alfred, there you are." Said Francis, "Oh _vous a amene̍ le be̍be_

." He cooed walking right over to the trio. "Felix, it's nice to see you as always." The tone was not friendly but it wasn't unfriendly too. Francis never had been quite sure what to make of the Communist Satellite countries Ivan was pretty much in control over. They very rarely came to World Meetings anymore so he had been losing touch with them.

"Like hi Francis." Felix said waving, "Oh there's Elizaveth, I like got to go ttfn." And then the blond Polish man practically skipped away as if he had no worries as he saw the Hungarian nation who gave Peter a long look before shaking her head.

"Rodriech misses her a lot; I hope she sits by him at the meeting. I think it'll ease his worries." Francis said softly as they watched the brunette woman pass by them without saying a word to either one of them. Rumor had it she hadn't been faring well with Ivan since her people up rise five years ago. "I heard about what happened a few nights ago. So Ivan found out did he?" Francis muttered something in French that Alfred didn't feel like deciphering. He just nodded in response and unconsciously held Peter closer to his chest as he thought about that night.

"Yeah, Abby didn't stand a chance against him. Kennedy's worried about retaliation from the Russians for Ivan's loss." Alfred said shifting the weight of his body so that he didn't have to worry about hurting himself while trying to hold the restless child. "You don't think Ivan will be here will he, I noticed that a lot of the satellite nations were here so I assume he's not going to be." He put Peter down having enough with the boy's wiggling in his arms. The boy tottered over towards Francis who bent down to give him a hug.

"_Non_, I haven't seen him, we received a message a few days ago saying that he wasn't coming." Alfred nodded, he knew of this, that was why he had felt safe bringing Peter with him. He was worried that Ivan would try to kidnap Peter again while he was away at the World Meeting; it was a classic kidnapper move that was in all the movies.

"_Zdravstvuǐte_ _Amerika_," said the mock happy voice of one Ivan Brangski, Alfred whirled on his feet to stare directly into Ivan's dark purple eyes that were full of anger as he glanced between Peter and Alfred.

"Hello Union of Soviet Socialist Republic." Alfred said icily stating Ivan's full and official name, most people still referred to him as Russia because the other countries that now made up the USSR still existed sort of.

"Russia, we received a telegram saying you weren't coming." Francis said stepping in between Ivan and Alfred. He tried to shoo Peter over towards Alfred, but the boy wasn't having it. The boy stared up at Ivan shivering slightly before hiding behind Francis' leg.

"I changed my mind." Ivan said and Alfred watched the smile that had formed on his enemy's face, it wasn't the smile that he loved it was a colder and crueler smile, demented and twisted into an almost unrecognizable one. "Why so silent, _Moya Lyubov_." Alfred tensed knowing full well what Ivan was implying, that they were still a couple, they hadn't been a couple in over forty years.

"Alfred, why don't you go into the conference room and sit beside _Angleterre_." Francis suggested, Alfred nodded and motioned for Peter to take his hand. Peter stared at the hand then looked back at Ivan before deciding to walk over to his father.

"Piggy back?" Peter asked his chubby hands reaching to push himself onto Alfred's shoulders.

"No Petya, not right now." Alfred said, "Let's go sit beside Uncle Mattie and Uncle Arthur okay?" The father and son walked into the conference room together, Alfred didn't turn to look back at Francis or Ivan but Peter did and Alfred couldn't help but notice that out of the corner of his eye.

* * *

It was an eerily quiet World Meeting for once; it lacked the usually bickering from the different countries. Each country sat on their own side of the table, NATO or Communist Bloc, the satellite nations once realizing that Ivan had indeed come moved to sit with him, the neutral countries sat at the end trying to be as far away as possible from the tension despite that the feeling had engulfed the room. Everyone was waiting for the clash of the titans to happen. But nothing did till Arthur, being the host nation of the conference, asked if anyone else had anything more to add to the meeting or should they call it adjourned and Ludwig raised his hand. "I would like to bring up the issue of the barrier that is being constructed in the middle of the former capitol of West Germany." He said very authoritatively, Ivan glared at the Germanic nation who rarely brought up any issues he might be having due to be located right next to the Communist Bloc. Gilbert went stiff at the mention of the wall. Alfred sighed, he had hoped that the major issues would be put off till the next meeting in a few months, Peter was sleeping and he would prefer not to have an angry toddler on his hands.

"Gilbert, I believe this is your boss's decision, _da_?" Ivan said calmly never taking his eyes off the sleeping child's form. Gilbert nodded uncomfortably.

"Er, yeah, he er, want to keep uh, East Germans from um, getting through the uh, the uh, border between um, the two countries though er Berlin." Gilbert said awkwardly standing up so that he was near the same height as his younger brother. He looked at Matthew when he was done talking and Alfred saw the silent apologies in his eyes and wondered absently mindedly what that was about as he unconsciously stroked the sleeping boy in his lap's hair.

"And building a wall through the city is his way of doing so? He's separating families and there are my people trapped on your side of the wall." Ludwig protested.

"Maybe you should keep better track of your people, _kamrade_." Ivan said with the childish smile on his face that creeped even the bravest out.

"And maybe you shouldn't try to force communism and dictatorships on everyone." Alfred said yelling at the Russian for the first time during the meeting. He had been trying not to fight with the Communist for Peter's sake.

"And perhaps you shouldn't meddle in other people's affairs." Ivan said calmly, it irritated Alfred to no end that the Russian could sit there all calm while he was fighting every nerve in his body not to jump up and try to strangle him, he was just way too passionate.

"And let the world fall to Communism? Not likely." Alfred said with a dark and humorous less laugh. "I guarantee you that the wall will be a symbol for the evils of Communism and its oppressiveness."

"I think not, comrade." Ivan said laughing just as darkly and humorlessly as his sworn enemies. "You vastly overestimate your power of persuasion."

"And you, your strength." Alfred stated

"He will be mine."

"No. Never, he's my state; I bought him fair and square." Alfred nodded as if that settled the matter. He hated saying that he bought Peter, he hadn't bought any of his states, just the land they had resided on. He had found them afterwards or they had sought him out.

"He is my-" Alfred cut the Russian off before he could utter the last word and give away the American's biggest secret.

"No, he's mine. Besides I wouldn't hand him over to you over my dead body. I heard what you did to Toris, how you beat him. Why? Because you were mad at me and you're too much of a coward to pick on someone your own size." Gasps went around the room and the air became violently cold extremely fast and Felix and Gilbert who sat on either side of the Russian inched their chairs away from him to escape the icy aura that now radiated from the enraged man.

"He knew, he knew and he never told me." Ivan said darkly,

"I never told him." Alfred said plain and simple. "He didn't know anything."

"How did he put it?" Ivan asked in his child like voice that turned dark with his next words. "He suspected."

"You beat a man based off of his suspicions. If this is how a Communist society works I'll be dead before I see one in my country." Alfred declared, it wasn't his first declaration of the same nature. At almost every meeting Alfred made a similar declaration about no longer being alive before the enemy dictatorship style government took over his country.

"At least then you won't be able to stop me from taking Peyta." There was a bang and then two simultaneous crashes while at the same time a baby's cry went through the conference room. The bang came from Alfred's chair toppling over as he stood up suddenly sending his toddler son out of his lap and onto the floor. The first crash came from the conference table hitting the wall behind Alfred and the free nations and the second came from Ivan's back hitting the opposite wall as Alfred pushed him into it.

"You will never call him that again while you fly a golden hammer and sickle on your flag." Alfred hissed, his blue eyes were filled with a rage that the American preferred to hide. He didn't like others seeing just how easily he could fly off the handle, he would prefer not to lead out of fear, he was not Ivan. But Alfred could not stand Ivan's blatant disregard as to who was Peter's parent. Peyta was Alfred's nickname for their son and Ivan would not take that from him.

"It is a Russian nickname."

"Alfred!" Matthew said walking over and separating the two superpowers the toddler in his arms. Peter clung to his uncle and neighbor; there was a fear in his blue eyes as he looked at his fighting parents. Alfred closed his eyes and walked over to stand beside his brother taking his son from the quieter man's arms.

"Daddy," the boy whimpered hiding his face into Alfred's left shoulder as Alfred began to rub the upset boy's back. Alfred was reminded of the night a few days ago when the Russian had broken into his house and tormented his son. Peter shouldn't have to be so frightened of his parents fighting.

"I am sorry Peter, so sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that." Alfred whispered pushing back Peter's silver cowlick before kissing his son's forehead.

"Well," Arthur said, "I think that's all for today, gentleman, ladies." Arthur nodded to Elizaveth and Monique the only two female countries at the meeting. The other countries nodded in agreement with Arthur's statement and stood up from their chairs that no longer sat around a table thanks to Alfred. Ivan was one of the first to leave which made Alfred happy as he fell into a chair, his son asleep in his arms again, a luxury he wished to have as well. He was tired of Ivan, he was tired of fighting with him, tired of Communism versus Capitalism, tired of the Cold War, tired of being a Super Power, to be frank Alfred was tired of pretty much everything.

"You look like shit." Arthur commented standing beside Matthew watching with weary green eyes as the Frenchman walked up to stand behind the chair Alfred was sitting in.

"Always the eloquent one aren't you, Arthur?" Francis asked with a smile.

"Belt up," Arthur responded and Alfred just watched the battle of words take place. That was all Francis and Arthur's battles really were these days, words. No violence, not really, cause Arthur hitting Francis upside the head didn't really count as violence. Alfred had heard from some of the other nations that once, years ago, Arthur and Francis' disagreements often ended as violently as his and Ivan's. He was glad that their animosity towards one another had toned down, he was positive the world couldn't handle another duel set of countries on the verge of another Cold War as well.

"The wall," Matthew said quietly once Francis and Arthur couldn't find any more insults to say to one another. "The wall is my fault. Ivan must have found out about Gilbert and I's rendezvous in West Berlin." Alfred awkwardly placed a hand on his brother's shoulder trying to work around the toddler in his arms.

"One day you won't need to sneak around to see Gilbert, I promise." He said trying to put on his most determined face for his brother. But from the look on Matthew's face, it would seem that his brother wasn't at the moment convinced.

"It's not your fault, Matthew. It's Ivan's and this stupid Iron curtain and the ridiculous fear that has built up between the two groups." Arthur said trying to comfort the distressed Canadian.

"But, Gil and I, what if we are separated for a long time and he moves on to someone else cause we couldn't be together due to the stupid wall."

"Then, he wasn't worth it, but I know Gilbert, he is very loyal. He will not move on." Francis said with a small sniff as he defended his best friend's honor. Matthew nodded.

"Is it always going to be like this between me and Ivan?" Alfred moaned to Arthur and Francis, Matthew had walked off after Gilbert had motioned for him to follow. They were probably making out in a janitor's closet knowing that if Ivan caught them it would probably start World War Three.

"No, one of you will probably end up killing the other." Arthur said without much remorse. "Or at least come close to it. That's what it took Francis and I to finally end our extreme hatred of each other."

"Waterloo," Francis murmured to himself and rubbed his right shoulder absentmindedly. Alfred had never asked the two older nations what had happened in the Belgian town that had caused the downfall of Napoleon a second time between the two nations. It was a while before they had talked to each other, and then when they finally did it was tense until nearly a hundred years later when the Entente Cordial was signed. But even still more than fifty years later the two nations still hadn't been completely honest with each other. Nearly a thousand years of hating each other, that wasn't what Alfred wanted with Ivan. It wouldn't be healthy for Peter or for the world; they were just too powerful now.

"How can he sit there and just remain calm while I get so worked up? Its frustrating and irritating and that stupid smirk on his face just makes me want to rip his face apart." Alfred growled, Peter shifted in Alfred's arms making a funny noise. Could he tell that his fathers were at each other's throats? "I should get going, got to make sure Abby and Theo didn't destroy my house again." Arthur snorted and Francis chuckled. It would just seem that the world was filled with love-hate relationships. To be honest, Alfred had no intentions of going home, he just needed to find whatever states were guarding him outside and leave Peter with them before tracking down Ivan and finishing their business from before.

"Hey there Alfred," Charles said, he was leaning against the bricks of the building Alfred had just walked out of. He had been waiting for the two obviously. Charles Jones, the representation of South Carolina had tried a hundred years ago to also represent the Confederate States of America and had left a very deep scar in Alfred's heart. Now the two were best friends again just as it had been before the war, but that five year war was one hardly mentioned still between the two. "Want me to take the little one?" Alfred nodded and handed the still sleeping Peter over to the brunette.

"Charlotte around?" Alfred asked, the Carolina twins were very rarely far from each other.

"She and George went to get a bite to eat." Charles said, "Do you want me to take Peter to them so he can eat as well?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, "When he wakes tell Petya that Daddy had to do some work but he'll be back later."

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Charles said and waved goodbye to Alfred. Alfred turned around and went back inside the building to hunt down the Commie.

Ivan was waiting for him in a side hallway that was close to the entrance, sometimes Alfred wondered if the Russian was a mind reader because he always seemed to know when he was itching for a good fight. "Privyet Amerika," His voice was full of danger and his eyes were wild and unpredictable.

"Let's get this over with. Just me and you, no other countries and no Petya involved." Alfred said raising his fists slightly in a defensive position.

"Petya will always be involved in our fights, whether you like it or not." The Russian said slowly. "He is our son." Alfred pushed Ivan into a room causing a huge dent in it that caused a spider web of cracks to form in the wall much like what happened in the conference room.

"I told you not to call him that. You are not his father, he doesn't know you. To him you are a big scary man who is trying to take him away from me, the only parent he knows." Alfred growled before Ivan pushed him into the opposite wall making a matching pair of spider web cracks.

"Whose fault is it that Peter doesn't know me?" Ivan whispered menacingly, "He is my son, I will have him."

"Over my dead body." Alfred said pushing Ivan off of him so that they now stood off once again in the middle of the hallway. The single sound of a gunshot made them both turn to the end of the hallway where a very angry looking Vash Zwingli stood, a gun pointed towards the roof, behind him huddled Lillie who was looking at the two warring nations with a look of fear.

"Enough! I don't care about your differences; I just don't want to be pulled into a war. And with the way you two act it won't matter about neutrality or not you'll just bring the whole damn world down with you as you fall." Vash shouted, "Go home, both of you."

"Stay out of this." Ivan growled, but Alfred nodded and begun to walk away from the Communist nation, he had a son to take care of, to protect and a war would do neither of those things. "Chicken, _Amerika_?" Ivan taunted.

"Come near my states again, Russia, and I won't hold back." Alfred threatened as he walked out of the conference building hearing Arthur groan to Vash about the damage they had caused today. Both superpowers had immense strength that neither one was used to and therefore couldn't control it.

**Author's Note (The part of the chapter where the author comes out and writes a silly note): Chapter two is here and the action is only heating up between our two lovers. And poor little Peter is caught up in the middle of his parents fighting, as well as many of the other nations of the world. I wasn't sure when I was going to be able to publish this, but thanks to Debbie, my vacation to Florida was cut short, it didn't happen at all. But I have see every major interstate in Florida north of Tampa Bay and across to Orlando. So much rain, we get hurricanes and rain and tropical storms where I'm from, but I live so far from the beach itself that we don't all the flooding.**

**Anyway, enough of my woes. Who's been watching the European Cup? I'm rooting for Germany! My sister is for Spain and I think my Mom is rooting for both of them. I really wanted England to win yesterday though. But now Italy is playing Germany and I get to squeal like the fan girl I am and no one will understand why. Hahahaha, its my master plan.**

**Don't forget to review and remember all flames are sent to the llama gods and they spit and bite.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_**1961**_

Alfred sighed as he placed another empty glass of McGuiness on the table, damn those Irish could make a good brew, but the thick black liquid seemed to be doing nothing for him, even after his third glass. He couldn't even feel a light buzz in his head yet. The bar tender though was giving him funny looks. Guess many humans couldn't drink three glasses of the drink and still be as sober as he was. He needed something harder. "Do you have any vodka?" Alfred asked the old man behind the bar, the stiff man nodded and turned his back to his American patron.

Alfred stared into the empty glasses as memories from nearly a century ago found their way to the front of his mind, memories he had been pushing away for almost a half a century.

_1873_

_ Alfred was standing on a pier, waiting with dozens of other people for the boat to finally disembark. The air was filled with chatter and the smell of the sea, well if you could call the mighty Pacific Ocean a sea. Alfred turned back to the city that was behind him, San Francisco was a beautiful city but he wouldn't be staying long. He and Ivan had business to take care of back in Washington, but Alfred very much doubted if the people he was supposed to be meeting with cared really if he and the personification of Russia were late. They didn't seem to care about anything besides filling their pockets. _

_ The magnificent luxury cruise liner that had departed from the Russian port city of Vladivostok had finally come to port and Alfred could feel his heart beat faster at the notion that the Russian man who had visited him so often was just a few yards away. He was a very handsome man with silky silver hair and purple eyes much lighter then Alfred's brother Matthew's. He was always very polite and there was an air of sadness about him that seemed to disappear the more time Alfred spent with him. Ivan Brangski spoke of many things when he visited, his sisters, affairs in Europe, the disgruntled surfs who had recently been given their freedom. In return Alfred often spoke of the new inventions that seemed to pour out of his people in mass amounts, the corruption in his own government, and the hopes of his people. A huge smile had made its way onto Alfred's face as he watched people depart the gangplank after what seemed like hours of tortuous wait, he was not a patient person to say the least._

_ His smile though wavered as he continued to wait for the Russian who had yet to appear on the gangplank or on the pier. Did he have the wrong date, the wrong pier? Did the Russian have to miss the boat for some reason? No, he would have been notified, they had telegraphs this was not the dark ages any more. He must have gotten his time and date mixed up then, or the pier number which would mean that he would have a very annoyed Russian on his hands. And he hated to appear like an ungracious host even if he had someone like Arthur visiting him, it was still tense whenever the two were in the same room together even though their two countries had come to some semblance of a good term relationship. Alfred turned to look away from the boat and across the bay to the rising sea cliffs on the other side. Francisco was certainly lucky to have such beautiful lands, and so rich in gold at one point at least. Now most of that gold was in the hands of the US treasury department or in banks in New York City or somewhere other than the foot hills of the Rocky Mountains._

_ "_Privet Fredeka_," a low voice said from behind making the wheat haired American stiffen with surprise. But he immediately relaxed, he would know that voice anywhere, probably even in his sleep. Alfred was glad to know that he hadn't made any kind of mistakes when it came to the date and pier numbers._

"Vanya_," Alfred said throwing his arms around the Russian man who let out a small oof and gently placed his suitcases on the wood they were standing on to return the American's hug. "I thought I had made some kind of mistake and you were waiting for me on some other pier." Ivan chuckled and gently patted Alfred's head._

"_No, I am here."_

"_So, what should we do first?" Alfred asked picking up on of Ivan's suit cases and walking side by side with the man and that was no small task, the other man took extremely long strides._

"_Go to the hotel, then maybe dinner." Ivan said with a small smile directed towards Alfred whose smile only widened more as he saw it. Alfred loved Ivan's gentle smiles; it made him feel like he was the most specialist person in the world because he could make Ivan Brangski, the personification of Russia smile._

"_I like that idea and I may know of a few good places to recommend." Alfred agreed as the pair walked down on of the many hills that plagued Alfred's beloved western city._

_**1961**_

"Here we go," said the bar tender placing a bottle on the table, "Do you want a glass for it?"

"No, I'll drink it out of the bottle." A silent _like he does_ lingered on Alfred's tongue as he picked up the offensive drink. He hadn't drank Vodka since the revolution, he hadn't wanted anything that would remind of him of the man he had loved, who had changed so much. The door to the pub opened behind Alfred but he chose not to glance behind and learn who was now joining him at this ungodly hour.

"Thought I'd find you here," Arthur's voice said and the Britt sat down on the bar stool next to him. "Are you trying to kill your liver?" he indicated to the empty glasses that the bar keeper had yet to remove.

"How'd you find me?" Alfred mumbled as he took a swig of the potato alcohol, feeling the burning sensation as the vile drink went down his throat. Somehow though it made Alfred feel better about his whole situation.

"I know what bars you went to during the war, and I know that you like a sense of familiarity and this is the only one still open that we went to." Arthur said before ordering a bottle of rum, a favorite drink of his from his days working as a privateer in the King's service. Alfred chuckled to himself, was he that easy to predict? "You know Ivan would never stop gloating if he walked in right now and saw that you were drinking Vodka."

"Well I guess it's a good thing he's not here right now, isn't it?" Alfred asked taking another swig, enjoying the burning sensation this time. His body was starting to feel numb maybe the poison was starting to work.

"Do you hate him?"

_1918_

_"_Vanya_," Alfred called out to the Russian man as they met on a boat near the Alaskan islands. "What happened to you?" There was something different about his lover, nothing that Alfred could see, but there was a different air about him, something was off and he didn't like it. Horrible stories had been pouring out of the newspapers about Ivan's Revolution, had the Bolshaviks really killed the Tsar and his children for no apparent reason?_

_ "_Priviet Fredeka_, I am finally free of oppressive rule. Soon the oppressed of the world shall rise up against their oppressors and liberate themselves and we shall all be equal." Ivan said with a smile, a crazy smile that didn't belong to the man standing across from him. Alfred shook his head, hardly believing what he was hearing, this wasn't the man he had fallen in love with, the man who had fathered his son, this sound like someone mad, someone he didn't want around Peter. Alfred glanced back to the house he was staying at, the house Peter was staying at, he wanted Ivan to know his son, he wanted to apologize to the Russian for leaving him in the dark for the past forty years about his son. At first Alfred had been terrified, he had turned into a woman until after Peter stopped nursing and then his bosses were afraid that if Russia knew they had to a claim to the personification of Alaska that they would try to take it away and that would push other countries to try and take away America's budding empire. But now Alfred wanted Ivan to know, or at least he had an hour ago before Ivan had started to spout off nonsense._

_ "You sound like your buying into your bosses bull shit. I thought you were smarter then that. Communism is an idea, a crazy one at that, people will never buy into a social equality crap." Alfred said, a panic was starting to rise in his chest as he saw anger enter Ivan's eyes. Ivan never got angry with him, he was always patient even Alfred messed things up and made mistakes and acted like an idiot. What had happened to _Vanya_, to the man that he loved? _

_ "You will see Alfred; the world will one day be under Communist rule." Alfred shook his head._

_ "You're wrong; I will be dead before I fall to Communism. I guess I found the answer I was looking for." Alfred turned away from the Communist nation trying his hardest not to let his legs give out from the pain in his chest from the death of his love._

_ "What was it you were looking for, Alfred?" Ivan asked quietly,_

_ "I was looking for a dead man."_

_1961_

"No, I don't hate him," Alfred said, "I hate the man he has become." That was the first time had ever declared that he would die before becoming Communist and it was words he would live by. He hated Communism with a passion, those who choose it, who truly chose it like Ivan did, turned into something cruel and vicious as the killed those who got in their way and forced everyone to become equal in a way that disgraced the word. "Did you ever truly hate Francis?"

"This is not about me," Arthur said, his face flushed red as he dodged the question, "I would prefer one night where the Frog's name didn't get mentioned." The former pirate took a long drink from his rum bottle.

"Fine, whatever." The American conceded, he would give his old friend one night of not bothering him about his own love life. "I hate this, I hate being at ends with him, I hate what he has become. I want things to change but, Arthur, damn it, I don't know how. I don't know how to save him, the man I love." He hit the bar, nearly knocking over his glasses with the force of the hit. "Sorry," he muttered to the bar tender.

"Sometimes, the one we fail to save are the ones that matter most." Arthur said raising the bottle of rum up to his lips. A look in his eyes betrayed how old the man sitting beside Alfred really was. Alfred liked to pretend that he wasn't one of the youngest nations around, but he was well aware that he was severely lacking in the experience the other nations had. Maybe, Alfred reckoned with himself, that was why he tried so hard to prove himself to the others. He was an infant compared to how old nations like Francis and Antonio were, they had known Remus, the legend that he was. They had experienced hardships that Alfred couldn't even begin to imagine.

"I don't want that to be Ivan and me." Alfred admitted, "I want to somehow solve our differences, but with the way he is." Alfred shook his head trying to find some way to explain to Arthur how he felt about the changes in Ivan. "He's not the man he once was, he doesn't listen, he's overly critical, I don't know if I can find any of _Vanya_ in him anymore."

"Well I don't know how much help I'll be, I have failed in the love department, and have been doing so for at least five hundred years, well more." Arthur said, his tone was different then it had been before, there were more slurs and Alfred picked up the bottle of rum to find it nearly empty. When had Arthur drank all that, he had only taken a couple of sips last he knew. "I'm nothing but a failing empire."

Alfred said nothing deciding that, that was the best response, he had gone drinking with Arthur often and knew how violent the Britt could get when he was drunk. "The last time an empire failed like this all of Europe was plunged into a dark age." Alfred nodded, "And then we had Charlemagne, conquering and converting all of bloody Europe because he well damn pleased to. And then," Arthur paused for some kind of dramatic pause. "There was that bloody bastard William, you know he was a bastard too."

"Yes we know, _mon cher._" Francis said, Alfred turned to look at the newcomer. "You hated his guts and mine at the time."

"Got that damn right." Arthur muttered, Alfred shook his head and took another drink of Vodka.

"Ivan's watching you," Francis said, "And I didn't see any of your states outside so I'm guessing that you ditched your security."

"I can take care of the Commie Bastard by myself. I asked them to watch the hotel. I thought he would go at another pass for Petya." Alfred said,

"Petya, why are you calling him a Russian name?" Arthur asked, and then he motioned for Francis and Alfred to lean in. "They're the enemy." He whispered and then started giggling really loud. Francis rolled his eyes, and Alfred just shook his head and wondered why he had invited the awful drunk to go drinking with him. Maybe because despite their not so great history, Arthur was the only one left that Alfred really felt comfortable to confide in besides his brother who he had disappeared after the meeting. Off with Gilbert somewhere, hoping that the Russian didn't go looking for the Prussian.

"Come on, Arthur, we should probably get you home." Francis said,

"But I haven't finished my drink yet." Arthur protested.

"Come on," Francis insisted helping the Britt up off the bar stool. Alfred also stood up, if the Commie Bastard was going to follow him around, he would just have to show the man just how uninteresting he could be and how futile stalking him would be.

"No, I don't wanna go." Arthur protested until Francis picked him up and swung him up on his shoulders. "I am an Empire, you can't do this to me." He slurred attempting to hit the Frenchman and missed the long blond every time.

"I'll see you soon, Alfred." Francis said, he didn't seem fazed by the Britt's violent actions towards him. Alfred wondered if that was what happened after you had been fighting for a millennia and hoped that the tensions between him and Ivan didn't last that long, surely it couldn't, soon one of the nations would break down and either give up or nuke the other effectively destroying the world.

"Yeah," Alfred said walking out with the Frenchman, he could see Ivan's shadow in the alcove of a shop across the street but barely glanced at it before turning in the opposite direction from Francis who was heading towards the direction of Arthur's house. Not somewhere he would want to be tonight, it was general knowledge that Francis and Arthur almost always wound up together in bed after Arthur went out drinking. Well at least since World War Two.

The hairs on the back of Alfred's neck were going haywire as he walked the two blocks it was to his hotel room, he knew Ivan was following him for whatever reason. But every time he would check behind himself the Russian was nowhere to be seen. His fight or flight instincts seemed to be in flight mode, he had to make sure the Russian didn't' get to Peter before him, he wasn't sure if George, Charlotte and Charles could fend off the silver haired man for very long, brute force had never been any of their strong points.

"Oof," Matthew said standing on the street corner right in front of Alfred's hotel. The Canadian nearly fell over from the force Alfred used when he accidently walked into him.

"Sorry," Alfred said, "Where did you disappear to after the meeting?" Matthew gave him a look that told him to back off.

"None of your business, Mom."

"Hey I've got rights as your older brother." Alfred said jokingly, Matthew scoffed. It was a long going argument between the two over who was older. Alfred had become a country before Matthew but the Canadian's birthday was first.

"I was with Gilbert, that's all you need to know." Matthew replied, he reached in the pocket of his suit's jacket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. "It's from an old friend." Alfred stuck the piece of paper in his pocket and said nothing more on the subject in case there were another pair of ears listening.

_** Dear Alfred**_

_** I want you to understand that I never told Ivan about Peter and I am sorry he tried to force your son to leave you. But Ivan is not the same person he was even fifty years ago and I know that you of all people will understand that. He has become colder and less forgiving and downright cruel sometimes. But recent information has come into my hands that I felt was dire that you should know. Ivan no longer bares the heart of Russia; it has been hidden somewhere unknown to me. I believe that Ivan himself doesn't know where it is located. If he is to be saved and this war is to end you must find it and make sure that it is put back in him.**_

_**T.L**_

A huge armchair sat in the middle of the room, empty bottles of vodka were littered around it, the whole room smelt of stale vodka and cigarettes. In a corner across from the door stood an unused bed that had dust all over it, on the wall opposite of that was a bureau with its contents strewn out of the drawers as if someone had been frantically looking for something. Dust also covered the top of it. Two large windows sat in between the bed and the bureau but they were covered by thick maroon drapes that allowed no light to come in leaving the occupant of the room almost in darkness. A mahogany chest sat at the end of the bed with a padlock on it and rust sat on its hinges, it would take someone very strong to open it. The only part of the room that had some semblance to cleanliness was a small table in front of the blue upholstered armchair that held one small item on it. Two figurines, both male, dancing in each other's arms, one had silver hair and wore a Russian military uniform; the other had honey blond hair and wore a blue uniform. It had been a present from Alfred to celebrate the Romanov's three hundred anniversary on the throne. The figurines themselves were made from porcelain and the base was made from wood. Painted on the base were the words _Even when I'm not there, I'm dancing in your arms._

Ivan had been tempted many times to throw the figurine against the wall, he had picked it up many times and had been just about to destroy the present, the reminder of happier times, when he would see Alfred's face, smiling like always and his own with a genuine smile and not the fake, scary one he wore for the world now. Then he would put the figurine down and wonder where that Ivan went, where that Russia went. Despite the fact that his people, well most of his people had been surfs, he had been happy. But his people hadn't been and he had heard their complaints in his bones and in his heart and had wanted to ease their suffering and the only person who had been able to do that was Vladimir Lenin, the first dictator of the Soviet Union. He wanted to dance with Alfred again; he wanted to hold his love in his arms again.

_1854_

_ Ivan stood nervously beside the Tsar Alexander, waiting anxiously for the American to show up. It was not unusual for Alfred to show up late, and the ball had really only just begun. But already Russian lords and ladies were dancing away on the dance floor. Ivan wasn't one for socializing but he had agreed to come because the Tsar had asked. Alexander was an old man, he had seen many things in his reign, soon, Ivan knew the old man would die and a new Tsar would reign. Alexander's heir Nicholas, such was the way of the world, it was something Ivan had come to accept with time._

_ Off to the side of the room were Toris and Feliks, the blond Pole was crossing dressing again, but the pulled off the dress very well and looked very effeminate himself. Ivan halfheartedly wondered if any of the Russian's nobles tonight knew that the blond woman in the very beautiful red dress, that reminded Ivan of a phoenix very fitting since Feliks fancied himself as one, was actually a man. Near the couple was Eduard who was trying to make some kind of small talk with Tino, who had been forced to attend the ball, for lack of a better word, by the Tsar. In fact Alexander had required that all the personifications under his rule attend his birthday celebration. Only Natalia had not come and no one, not even the Tsar, was brave enough to face her. Ivan was glad, he loved his younger sister very much but she did scare him with her talk of marriage. Everyone else had come willingly, except Tino, the Finnish personification did not like being part of Russia, it was not entirely Ivan's fault. He pretty much allowed the Finn to do whatever he wanted, he felt guilty that he had taken Tino away from his love especially now that he had found his own. But it hadn't been his fault that Tino was not allowed to see Berwald that was the Tsar at the time, which one was that again?_

_ Ivan's thoughts about Tino were interrupted by the newest entourage making their way to the Tsar. A middle aged man walked up the Tsar and bowed very low before speaking with the leader of the Russian Empire. "Your serene exultancy, I would like to humbly introduce you to Alfred Jones the United States of America." The man moved aside and Ivan could see his lover, dressed in military blues, his hair was slicked back, all but one strand at least, and he looked for once presentable and not like he had just come back from the fields at his house he so loved to attend to. In his eyes he looked tired, something Ivan would ask him about later, the silver haired man wondered if there had been anymore strife between Alfred's northern states and his southern ones. He hoped, for Alfred's sake, that the two sides work out their differences peacefully, he did not want to see his lover hurt from war._

_ "You'll have to forgive me for not bowing, your serene highness. In my country we do not bow to our leader." Alfred said, the Tsar chuckled but seemed to take no offence to the brash nation's words._

_ "Of course not," Alexander chuckled, "Ivan, you are dismissed."_

_ "Thank you, your highness." Ivan said with a bow and took Alfred's hand and led him away from his leader. He loved how warm Alfred was, he was colder than most other nations due to his proximity to the northern pole and though he longed for lands that were warmer, it would seem that it would not happen anytime soon. "It is good to see you Alfred," The American blushed as his name rolled off Ivan's tongue. _

_ "It's good to see you too, Ivan." Alfred said reaching up just barely to kiss Ivan's lips and then pulled away. "Why don't we go-"_

_ "Dance with me Alfred," Ivan said holding out his hand for Alfred to take. The American, uncharacteristically, began to splutter with protests making Ivan frown, the honey haired boy never back down from a challenge. _

_ "I don't know how," Alfred said quietly, "We don't have fancy dances like this where I'm from. What if I fall, or step on your foot, what if they laugh?" Ivan had never seen the brash boy act so self-conscience before, he always seemed so assured of himself of what he was doing. It was true that many other, especially European, nations claimed that the American nation was backwards and back woods with no civility at all. And Ivan knew how very far from the truth that was. The people in America were civil though they had a different way of life than those of their counterparts in Europe. They had to depend on one another in order to survive the brutal land they were trying to conquer; they didn't have so much time for leisure as some of the Europeans did. What confused Ivan the most though was that not even three hundred years ago, that had been them and they had been that way for a thousand years._

_ "I'll lead, I won't let them laugh at you." The Russian promised, Alfred nodded and hesitantly took the silver hair man's hand and was lead onto the dance floor._

_**1961**_

Ivan threw the bottle down, he would not let the American keep his son away from him, he would do anything to take what was rightfully his and he would let no one, not even his lover get in his way. He would make the blond pay for all the hurt he was feeling. Ivan grabbed the figurine off of the table and hurled it across the room enjoying the sound as it broke into a thousand pieces on the opposite wall. Yes he would make Alfred pay for everything he had done to him.

**Author's Note (the part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): So I always imagined the part where Arthur says the Russians are the enemy as like when Sheldon from Big Bang Theory tells Lenard that he's Batman, for those who don't watch Big Bang Theory sorry if its lost on you. Oh well, so anyway the plot thickens and I like to write sad and depressed Ivan. What could he possibly have in store for our hero? And I liked to point out a question if Alfred's the hero then does that make Ivan the damsel in distress or the misunderstood villain? Good question. Any way don't forget to review and remember (commit it to memory) all flames are fed to the llama gods.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

_**1961**_

Alfred had come to Berlin to relax, to look at the wall and to give Ludwig some support. The wall was an ugly scar in a once beautiful city. Alfred had been there a couple of times before, he had seen it when the kings of Prussia called it their capitol and when swatizitcas hung from every window at the Olympic Games. He had seen the good and the bad of this city and though he did not know it like Gilbert or Ludwig did, did not love it the way they did, he still enjoyed being there. "Ludwig seems sad every time he sees it, he won't talk about it. I think he misses his people on the other side, misses Gilbert." Feliciano said as he and Alfred cooked dinner at Ludwig's apartment in Berlin, the blond mentioned was out walking his dogs.

"I think he'll be okay." Alfred said,

"And what about you and Ivan ~ve?" Feliciano asked as he stirred the soup the two were making. Alfred gave the Italian a funny look, what did Ivan have to do with Ludwig? "I am not stupid, Alfred, Ivan doesn't want Alaska for no reason. There a few things on this Earth that he is willing to go so far for and one is family. Peter is his son." Alfred closed his eyes and nodded.

"Peter is our son, he is good and kind and smart and handsome, he is the best of both of us and I am terrified of what Ivan will turn him into if he ever got a hold of him. I have seen the looks in the eyes of Toris and Katyusha and Elizaveth, I have seen the horrors he is capable of and I won't let him touch my son." Alfred said.

"Ve~ I've always wanted kids, but they're so rare." Feliciano gushed, "You are extremely lucky you know." The Italian seemed to skip around the kitchen as he spoke, gathering spices and flavors for the soup the two were making. Alfred smiled absentmindedly as he thought about his son, he knew that he was lucky to have Peter, _Petya_, Arthur had been one of the first to mention how rare pregnant countries were. "When I was a child, there were many children countries, but my brother and I were two of the youngest, and Ludwig, but he doesn't remember that time." Feliciano sighed as he shook the bottle of rosemary into the soup. "I've never told him that we knew each other as children."

"Why not?" Alfred asked as he chopped up some carrots to put in the pot on the stove.

"He would never remember, he took a severe blow to the head during the Napoleonic wars and stopped being the Holy Roman Empire. It broke my heart you know." Felicano looked over at Alfred, there was sadness in the Italian's big brown eyes that Alfred had never seen before. Usually, the Italian was happy, and acted as if there was nothing in the world that could shake his good mood. But obviously there was. "But then I met him again, and I realized that he wasn't really all that different." There was a faint hearted smile on the Italian's face, one that wasn't quite big enough for him. But Alfred decided not to comment on that, there were days, he knew, where his smile wasn't quite wide enough to fool people, but he preferred to think that no one noticed it.

Silence drifted over the kitchen except for the sounds of Alfred's knife slicing the vegetables to put into the broth and cook. Most people assumed that the American ate hamburgers all the time, many of his people enjoyed the benefits of fast food, and though Alfred really, really liked hamburgers, eating the same thing every day got boring. Plus Peter didn't really like fast food; it upset his stomach or something. Alfred really wasn't quite sure; he had never taken his son to a doctor, too many questions that would have to go unanswered and all that. But Alfred actually was a very good cook, and his country was known for its chefs despite rumors that his people lacked fine pallets and all that crap. He had been accused of being a back water nation since his foundation. He had grown a rather thick skin to all the criticism. "Feliciano, do you know anything about a nation's heart?"

The Italian cocked his head and looked out of the kitchen window as if in thought. "My Nonno told me one time that a nation's heart is what connects us to our people, its what makes us feel their pain. What makes us empathize with them, and want to protect them." The Italian smiled. "Why?"

"No reason," Alfred said waving his hand dismissively, "Are you ready to put the onions in yet?" Feliciano nodded, thoroughly distracted from Alfred's question by the task of cooking. Alfred's mind on the other hand was racing; if what Toris said in his letter was true then Ivan could be in trouble. But how would Ivan have lost his heart in the first place, did he willingly remove it or did someone or something remove it for whatever reason?

"Alfred?" Feliciano asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Alfred shook his head quickly, "Sorry, just thinking." What would happen if Ivan never regained his heart? Would he never get his lover back? Would the Cold War never end? No, no the Cold War would end, it would end in one of them dying. So that was it then, kill or be killed? There had to be something he could do, but there was almost no way he could find Ivan's heart, it wasn't like he could just waltz into the Soviet Union and start looking for it, especially not if someone in Ivan's government had it. Alfred hated giving up, but it wasn't really giving up if he never started right? Gah! It was so complicated, it made Alfred's head want to explode from the many variables he was trying to work out, the many scenarios that could play out. Trying to predict the unpredictable. He longed for the good ole days, the days where he had no real enemies and he was underestimated as a country. Being on top was not a place that Alfred enjoyed, not when he could look over the edge and see just how far he would fall. Being a king must have been a lonely job back in the day. No one could truly understand the loneliness unless they too had been at the top. Of course being a nation, there were many others that knew the feeling, there had been many rise and fallen empires. Some it had seemed easily fell into decent, usually from collapsing on the inside and it was slow and so the nation had time to react. And others fell so fast it left nations in chaos.

"_This is the Beilschmidt resident_," Feliciano said into the phone, in his impeccable German, most countries could speak the languages of the surrounding countries as well as languages spoken within their own. "I see," the Italian said switching to English and then put his hand over the receiver and turned to Alfred. "It's for you and it sounds urgent."

"I tell them I'm going on a freaken vacation and I still can't get a break." Alfred complained grabbing the phone from Feliciano. "This is Alfred F. Jones,"

"Mr. Jones, there's been an incident at the wall." A male voice said through the phone,

"The wall?" Alfred asked uncertain about who he was talking to and what they were talking about. Was this one of his spies and this their code words? He couldn't remember ever setting those words though as tip offs.

"Yes sir, the Berlin Wall. Soviet officials tried to stop one of our diplomats at the wall when they tried to cross into East Germany." The man on the other side of the phone said. Oh, well at least it wasn't one of his spies trying to contact him.

"I understand, do you need me to come down to the headquarters?"

"No, I was just told to inform you." Alfred let out a sigh of relief; he would have really been ticked if he had to interrupt his vacation for that craziness. Feliciano looked concerned beside him but Alfred didn't say anything to him, he'd explain later.

"Well, I'll talk to you at another time then." Alfred said after a period of awkward silence between him and the other person on the phone.

"Uh, yeah, that sounds about right." The other guy said, and then Alfred heard that annoying dial tone sound that told him that the other party had hung up the phone. With a sigh he turned back to the food they were cooking. He had an ominous feeling now in his gut, something was going to happen soon and his only hope was that the nukes wouldn't start flying.

Feliciano was back to stirring the soup making small "ve~" noises as he did so. He seemed to be in deep thought and Alfred decided to just let him continue to do what it was he was doing and headed upstairs to the guest bedroom he was staying in to make a phone call. It had been Ludwig that had suggested that Alfred take a vacation, telling him that if he worked too hard and stressed too hard over Ivan that he would only go in circles and that vacations were good for him. Apparently Germans loved to take vacations, and Alfred had thought they were all workaholics like Ludwig. "Hey Al, wasn't expecting to hear from you." Matthew said from the other end of the phone. "How's the vacation going?"

"There was an incident earlier today; I guess the Soviets pulled over one of my diplomats trying to cross into East Berlin. I've been assured it's taken care of, but Mattie, I've got one of my feelings." Alfred explained twirling the cord of the phone around his left index finger while he spoke. The Canadian on the other end of the phone said nothing. "Everything's okay on your end correct?"

"Yes, Peter's doing fine, I can see him right now building something out of blocks with Samuel and Rebecca." Matthew replied, Alfred had asked his brother to watch his son in Canada hoping that if the Russian tried to take him again that he would go back to Alfred's DC home where Peter normally lived and not to Ottawa where Matthew lived. Samuel and Rebecca were some of Matthew's providences, Quebec and Ontario to be precise. One of the oldest couples in North America they had been forced to marry by the British Empire and then divorce, but they were still very much in love with each other. In some way Alfred hoped that Peter could see that love really did work through those two and not only see how love had torn Ivan and Alfred apart.

"Okay, thanks, tell _Petya_ I love him." Alfred said,

"I will," Matthew said starting to chuckle, "You sound like an overprotective mother you know that." Alfred paled at his brother's words, there was no way he was turning into Arthur, he was too cool for that.

"_Guten Abend_, Feli, where's Alfred?" Alfred heard Ludwig say from downstairs and he could hear the sounds of the dogs barking, _Petya _wanted a dog, he had been asking about one for a while now but Alfred kept putting it off.

"Upstairs I think. He received a phone call a few minutes ago, work stuff I believe." Feliciano responded almost making Alfred believe that he and the Italian hadn't just had a serious conversation a few minutes ago. Maybe Feliciano should try acting out, Alfred was sure he'd probably be a good one.

"I have to go Mattie, its dinner time." He said,

"Okay, talk to you soon." Matthew said as Alfred hung the phone up. Alfred shrugged as he made his way down the stairs to where Ludwig and Feliciano were talking in the kitchen.

"Hey," he said sheepishly,

"_Hallo_," Ludwig responded, "Did something happen?"

"Just some stupid political shit, a diplomat was pulled trying to cross into East Berlin. I think the situation has difused." Alfred said one thing but the feeling in his gut was telling him another, this situation whatever it was, was not over. Ivan had something planned and it made Alfred all the more happier he had decided for Peter to stay at Matthew's house while he was in Berlin. Ludwig nodded but didn't press the issue, Alfred knew that if it turned into anything bigger Bonn would call him. Despite the fact that Bonn was now the capitol of West Germany, Alfred knew that to Ludwig Berlin would always be home. He could remember having to visit Germany right after the 1848 revolutions when he and Ludwig looked around the same age, now Ludwig looked older and if what Feliciano said was true Ludwig would be a thousand years older than Alfred. But Ludwig had lived in Berlin then, though he had Gilbert taking care of him then.

"Dinner," Feliciano chimed in as he held up the ladle from the soup pot.

"_Danke_, Feli." Ludwig said giving the Italian a peck on the cheek. Feliciano giggled and shooed the German off of him. Alfred respectfully looked away and tried not to think about the time he and Ivan decided to cook borscht together.

"Don't give me all the credit, Alfred helped too, actually it was his recipe." Ludwig raised an eye brow and looked over at the American.

"Just like my Mama made it." Alfred said in a southern drawl, Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Not Artie, he can't cook." He was still receiving strange looks from his European friends. "Never mind, forget it. It's an American thing."

"Are you okay, Alfred?" Feliciano asked as he scooped out the soup from the pot and into the three bowls from Ludwig's cabinet.

"Yeah, yeah, just worrying about _Petya_," Alfred explained, "He's with Mattie right now." Feliciano nodded and just continued to dish out dinner.

"_Petya_?" Ludwig said with a frown, "Sounds Russian."

"It is, it's a term of endearment for someone named Peter, and Peter is the state of Alaska. I thought a Russian nickname was suitable because I bought him from Russia, well the land he represents, I didn't buy Peter, and slavery was outlawed by then." Alfred rambled, he had never owned slaves, he thought it would be hard to explain to them why he never aged. Ludwig just nodded as he grabbed one of the ceramic bowls off the kitchen counter.

"Of course." Ludwig said as they sat down for dinner. "He's the one you brought to the last World Meeting, correct?" Alfred nodded as he sat down across the table from the blond German and Feliciano sat to Ludwig's right. "Is there any particular reason, Ivan is so obsessed with him?" Alfred paled and looked over at Feliciano, if the Italian had realized the truth about Peter, why not Ludwig? His years of secrecy seemed to be wasted now, though really, Alfred reckoned with himself, what was the point of trying to keep Peter a secret, he was an American state so no one could mess with him and Ivan already knew the truth so it wasn't like he was trying to keep it from his ex-lover anymore.

"Peter is vitally important to both of us." Alfred said with a tone that warned the German to drop the questions. He really hated to get nasty but he didn't want to talk about it anymore. His instincts were already going nuts from what happened at the wall today what could the violating of the treaty possibly mean.

"Luddie, have you seen the new line of Ferraris that went on the market a few weeks ago?" Feliciano asked, "They're really cool looking." Dinner took a lighter note after that and Alfred began to feel more relaxed about his vacation.

"I love you sweetie, Daddy will be home in two days." Alfred promised his son as he spoke to him four days later. Nothing major had happened since the incident on the twenty-second; well none that he had gotten calls about. A minor incident that the military had over reacted about. Then why was that feeling not going away?

"I like Uncle Mattie's house," Peter said, "Miss Reb'cca and Sammy are really, really nice, Daddy." Alfred chuckled; he was glad that Peter was enjoying himself, that he did not know of his father's fears.

"Maybe, Uncle Mattie and I can work it out that you can come over there sometime, how does that sound, sweetie?" Alfred said, "Hey is your uncle there?" He sat down on the bed he had been sleeping on while staying with Ludwig and Feliciano, the Italian was getting ready to go back to Rome a few days after Alfred went back to Washington and Ludwig would probably go back to Bonn then, this was kind of a vacation for all of them.

"Uh-hun." Alfred heard the phone shuffling and then his brother's voice.

"Hey, what's up?" Matthew asked, his voice was cheerful, but Alfred could detect a slight edge of worry in his brother's voice that he was trying to cover up.

"Nothing much, have you heard anything from Gilbert recently?"

"Alfred, I've told you Gilbert and I are not going to be another member of your spy-"

"I'm asking because I still feel like Ivan's planning something, something big in Berlin and I wanted to know if Gilbert knew anything. I'm not asking you to spy I just- I just want some heads up okay." Alfred sighed; he didn't want to put his brother in the middle of his mess with Ivan, though in a way Matthew was, geographically at least.

"I- I haven't heard anything from Gilbert." Matthew sounded upset now, so this was what Alfred had been detecting earlier. "I sent my contact a message and they said that he was missing. I don't know what to do, Alfred."

"Ivan's probably has him in Moscow doing dishes for him or something because he's too lazy to do them himself." Alfred said trying to lighten his brother's fears; it was his job after all as Matthew's big brother.

"I know, I know, please Al, be careful over there."

"I will, no one can hurt me. I'm a hero, remember." Al said plastering a huge smile on his face that he wished Matthew could see. But Matthew would know it was fake, he had always been able to tell when Alfred was fake smiling, even when no one else could.

"I know,"

"I'll keep an ear out for Gilbert. Take care of yourself; I'll be over to pick up Peter when I get off the plane."

"I'm sure you will. He's a sweet kid."

"I know, I raised him. Bye Matt."

"Bye Al." and then Alfred hung up the phone relieved to hear his brother and son's voices. They were okay, so why wouldn't this feeling of dread go away? Why did he feel as if something bad was about to happen to him. Maybe he should cut his trip short and go home tomorrow. Yes that was probably for the best, he was needed in Washington and this vacation hadn't been relaxing, well not as much as he probably needed it to be. Guess that meant he should start packing. He looked around the guest room he had been staying at the clothes he had strewn across the room in the five days he had been there.

Alfred was getting ready to leave for the airport the next day when the call came that he was needed at the wall. Whatever Ivan had planned was coming to its finale. Already as Alfred came close to the wall he could see a military blockade that was stopping civilians from coming any closer and then he saw the tanks. They were American but they were facing the wall and on the other side of Checkpoint Charlie, the only place you could cross into East Berlin where the source of the craziness had been the other day, were Soviet tanks. "What's going on? Someone give me the situation now and I'm going to need a direct line to Washington in case anything gets out of hands." Alfred started ordering the minute he got to the base camp a few meters away.

"Ah, Alfred Jones, you're here." Said General Clay, the Special Advisor to West Berlin said coming up to the nation. "We've got about twenty Soviet tanks on the other side of the wall, I believe we are both at an equal distance from the wall."

"Any sign of Russia or East Germany?"

"Yes, Russia was spotted up on the wall here." Clay pointed to a map of Berlin, "We believe he is with Hungary and Poland." Alfred frowned, why was Elizaveth and Feliks here but not Gilbert, it would make more sense that the albino nation be here then two of his neighbors after all this was going on in his domain. What was Ivan up to?

"Sir, we've just received word, the nation of Russia wants to speak to the nation of America alone, on the wall." A solider came in handing Clay a piece of paper.

"Thank you solider," Clay said, and turned to Alfred, "Better go find out what the damned bastard wants." Alfred nodded putting a hand on the holster on his hip and wishing that he still had his M-16 with him. Well at least he wasn't completely defenseless.

Ivan was exactly where Clay had pointed to on the map, and he was waiting. Elizaveth and Feliks though were nowhere in sight but Alfred learned a long time ago that, that didn't mean anything. "Ivan," Alfred spat, "I'm going to assume that there is a real reason you've called me up to the symbol of oppression." That was his name for the Berlin Wall, he was always telling people he only called them as he saw them and he wasn't going to hold any punches back, especially not for Ivan. The Russian only smiled as if something amused him and as much as Alfred tried to brush it off, it pissed him off. Why the hell was the Russian so calm?

"You are so foolish, Alfred." He giggled childishly, and Alfred could see the craziness in Ivan's eyes, he didn't care if he fell just so long as he took the world down with him. The Ivan he loved, the Ivan who was Peter's father, would never have that look in his eyes, just another reminder of how much the mighty could fall. He made a mental note to have someone take him to a mental hospital if he started to get that look in his eyes.

"Maybe I am, but that doesn't explain why you've brought me up here or why there are Soviet tanks in Eastern Germany." Alfred replied back counting to ten before doing so, damn Mattie was rubbing off on him.

"You are foolish to think that dear _Petya _was safe with Matthew." Alfred felt as if he was about to hurl, he hadn't fooled Ivan at all. Even after all the trouble he had gone to with Abby and Theo to make it seem as if Peter was still in Washington.

"What did you do?" Alfred growled trying to push back the feelings of despair in his chest, the anger for actions that he wasn't even sure had taken place.

"It's not what I've done, it's about what's going to happen." Ivan said, Alfred never saw Feliks coming, he hadn't expected it from a former ally, but he certainly felt Felik's knife go through him as he collapsed onto the Berlin Wall helpless as he watched Ivan walk away and Feliks mouth "I'm sorry" to him. He didn't blame Feliks for stabbing him, he wanted to tell the Pole that, but before he could get the words out the darkness consumed him.

Gilbert hated feeling helpless, hated having to depend on someone else, hated knowing that somewhere out there was Natalia, and she was hurting Mattie. Just the thought of her spilling a single drop of his Canadian blood made Gilbert want to kill her in some of the most painful torture techniques he had learned back in the day. Made him rattle the chains he was bound to, to prevent him from escaping the dungeon he was in. He wasn't sure where in Russia he was but it had to be a castle in order to have a dungeon, an old castle. This place smelt as if it had seen the lives of millions of rats and they had all died down here or something. He tried to push that thought away, not awesome. Not that Gilbert once known as the Awesome Prussia felt all that awesome anymore, being Ivan's slave was not awesome and he didn't like being separated from his brother and Matthew.

The door opened to the dungeon and Gilbert looked up from where he was sitting. When he had first been locked away in the dungeon he had banged on every piece of rock that he could reach trying to do something but now he sat on the floor, it wasn't that he had given up hope or anything, it was just that beating his head against a rock wasn't going to get him anywhere. He was a strategist, even more then his brother, he hadn't been a military with a nation for no reason after all. Natalia stared back him; her cool blue eyes were freaking Gilbert out a little bit. "The master wants you, Gilbert." Master? Gilbert snorted, this bitch was crazy, but everybody knew that.

"He might need to rethink then the whole shackling me to the wall thing." Gilbert held up the chain that confined him to the stone wall behind him. He could see now that it was a mix of gray and brown and covered in things that had been growing for quite some time. He watched as Natalia came over hardly giving him a second glance as she went for the lock by the wall and never saw his hand flying towards her throat.

"What did you do to him?" Gilbert growled holding her up by her throat. He pressed her against the wall and used the hand that wasn't holding her up to grab the knife holster from under her skirts. "What did you do to Matthew?" Her only response was a wicked smile that made Gilbert's blood boil. "Tell me, Natalia! What did you do to Matthew?"

"It seems I've underestimated your determination, Gilbert." Ivan's voice said from right behind him. Gilbert turned to look at the giant of a man and Natalia took her chance to back hand him and he lost the advantage he once had. "No matter, I shall tell you what happened to your precious Matthew Williams."

Gilbert didn't fight as he was lead out of the dungeons; to be honest he was grateful to get out of it. He was lead down some hallways and upstairs to a bedroom where he could hear a child's voice begging for his father, a little fist was banging on the bedroom door. "He will learn that there is no hope for him to see his precious father again." Ivan explained to Gilbert before he opened the bedroom door and pushed Gilbert inside. "You will become one with Russia." Then the door was closed shut.

Gilbert instently recognized the boy in the room with him, even with the tears streaming down his face, he was the child that Alfred had brought to the last World Meeting, the one that had caused yet another fight between the two superpowers. Up close he could see the mixture of the two, he had Ivan's silver hair but Alfred's blue eyes and Alfred's strength as he felt a small fist hit his leg. "Stop, I'm not the enemy here." Gilbert said before bending down to the boy's level. "What's your name?" Wasn't it Peter or something like that?

"Peter," the little boy hiccupped as he rubbed away tears from his eyes, "I want my Daddy."

"I know kiddo, I know." Gilbert said before reaching out to touch the child.

"The scary lady hurt Uncle Mattie," the boy said with wide eyes and he whimpered, "the scary silver made booboos on his face and here." The boy touched his chest. The silver scary could only refer to Natalia's infamous knives. He swallowed back his own pain as the kid described in a way only little children could do, what the crazed woman had done to his beloved.

**Author's Note (the part of the chapter where the author comes out and write a silly note): Sorry this is late, I have been extremely busy and I dropped my computer and really messed up the screen so this'll be the last chapter for a couple of weeks. So historical facts here, yes American tanks and Russian (soviet) tanks really did have a showdown in the middle of Berlin October 27, 1961 due to issues of passports and diplomats crossing into East Berlin. It lasted for sixteen hours before Soviets finally pulled a tank back and then the Americans did so and then the Soviets pulled another tank back and so on and so forth and the situation defused. A cultural note (and I'm told by my German textbook this so for what its worth) apparently Germans keep guest rooms to rent out to vacationers and students who are looking for a place to stay to earn some extra money. Also Germans like to go on vacations. If I have offended anybody due to my lack of knowledge of other people's culture I apologize now and please let me know. If not then everybody's hunky-dory and we don't need to worry about it. Please review and remember all flames are sent to the llama gods.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

_**1961**_

Alfred slammed the pot down so hard onto the kitchen counter that cracks had begun to appear. He was no longer controlling the superhuman strength he had possessed since he was a child; he picked up a buffalo and swung it around when he was a little tyke, barely older then Peter. His heart suddenly reminded him how hard it was to beat, and his lungs took a ragged breath, it had been years since he had last felt this weak, forty years to be precise in his house in Anchorage, Alaska. Love did funny things to the body. Every part of Alfred's body ached to jump on the next plane to Moscow and beat the Commie Son of a Bitch to an inch of his life and demand his son back. But Kennedy had strictly forbidden that he leave the states before he was healed, stupid bosses, stupid Polish assassins. He was almost healed, Feliks had missed all the vital regions of his abdomen and he couldn't die, not without first losing his country at least. Due to being states bound and having nowhere else to take out his frustrations and anger and betrayal on the kitchen that Abigail was always so proud of maintaining had become a place of chaos and destruction. The fridge had lost its door yesterday when he accidently pulled too hard on the handle, he had almost pulled out the faucet this morning to beat Ivan's face in with, Alfred thought the irony of that would be quite funny to the other countries, and now the counter was cracked. Abby would be pissed when she got back from her home in Plymouth, she had left for it before he came back from the hospital in Berlin two days ago knowing that he would need his space to deal with his feelings, she knew him well enough, and Theo had gone with her. The house was an eerie quiet without the sounds of everyone living in it.

There were no little feet running on the hardwood floors in the hallway.

No Elvis being played on the record player in the living room.

No childish laughter.

No Abigail or Theodore.

No _Peyta_.

Alfred thought his heart might fall out of his chest like that fake one did in Ivan's. His son was gone, taken from him, by a crazy woman who would do God knows what to the child if she ever found out that the boy wasn't just some random state that Alfred had found roaming around the Alaskan wilderness, that he was her flesh and blood too. That she was his aunt. A crazy woman who had been doing the bidding of Peter's other father. A crazy woman that was in love with her brother, a crazy woman that he and Ivan had kept their relationship secret from as much as possible, a crazy woman who would seriously hurt his son if told the truth about their relationship.

No, he couldn't think like that. Alfred tried to shake the bad thoughts from his head. If he thought anymore about Natalia taking his son from his brother's home in Ottawa he might just ignore Kennedy's order and take his private Flying Fortress Bomber to Russia and take back what had been taken from him. No matter his physical condition.

As he wandered around the three story house that had been built right after World War One as sort of a present for himself about surviving the horrendous war, plus he thought that the house in Virginia he had lived in before was too far away from Washington and he was needed more in the capitol. It had never been this empty, many of his states for whatever reason had crashed in his house for a couple of years or so, even the country of Lithuania had lived in this house for about a decade.

_**1921**_

_ "Dude, it's no problem if you hang here for a few years to jumpstart your economy." Alfred said as he led the timid Lithuanian man around the house. He already had Charlotte and Lilo living full time with him and Peter, what was one more going to do? "I won't work you like a dog, promise."_

_ "T-thank you." The light brunette stammered as Charlotte ran up to the two countries. Her once cascading blond hair and huge bonnet skirts of the nineteenth century had been exchanged for a bob cut and bloomers causing a huge uproar with her fiercely protective older brother Charles. Most of the time the representative of North Carolina came off as fairly cynical and a realist, but she like other women in America were greatly enjoying the new wave of feminism in America plus the backlash of the eighteenth amendment outlawing alcoholic beverages._

_ "The babies are crying." She informed them, and Alfred sighed, he really needed someone like Abigail or Shirley to live with him, someone who liked kids more. It was hard work trying to watch both of his baby territories. He was glad that Juan could take care of himself for the most part and preferred to live with Enrico in Florida, he wasn't sure he could take care of another territory by himself._

_ "I'm coming," Alfred said and then turned to Toris, "Would you like to meet the two newest additions to team USA?" Toris chuckled slightly at Alfred's casual word to describe the brood that represented his nation._

_ "Okay," Toris agreed and followed Alfred down the hallway again and down the stairs to the nursery where the sounds of two distinct crying babies could be heard._

_ In the nursery were two children, the older one a tan girl was no older than three, who already had long black hair that reached her mid back, sat on the floor surrounded by colorful wooden blocks. "Peter knocked them over." The girl said pointing to the younger one who was hardly looked one and half years old who also sat crying on the floor._

_ "Toris, this is the former island nation known as Hawaii or Lilo." Alfred indicated to the girl. "And this is Peter, he represents Alaska." Alfred indicated to the silver haired boy who looked about a year and a half. Toris nodded and said hello to the two youngest representatives probably in the world. "Now _Peyta_, what have I told you about sharing?" Alfred asked chiding the silver haired boy._

_**1961**_

Alfred had arrived in his wanderings around the house to Peter's room, the white door was slightly ajar and so light barely trickled into the dark room, but even with minimal light he could see the book shelves that contained Peter's books and small toys and the rocking chair that Alfred could remember countless times rocking _Peyta_ in when the boy was a small baby. Now his silver haired son adored rocking the chair himself till he fell out of it. A small stuffed wolf sat on the brown chair, Peter's favorite toy. The silver haired boy had pitched the biggest tantrum when he realized he had left it at home.

This was all Ivan's fault, that son of a bitch couldn't let Alfred try to have a happy, normal life without him. Why couldn't the commie realize that he didn't want Ivan in Peter's life, not like he was. How did Ivan expect to be a father without his heart, he couldn't even emphasize with his people and that was primal instinct to nations? It wasn't that Alfred never wanted Peter to have a relationship with his other father, he just wanted Ivan not to be crazy, and maybe Ivan had always been crazy and Alfred had been to blind by love to see the silver haired man's insanity. Love had blinded people to worse things. A love that was now covered by hatred, he wasn't even sure if he still was in love with Ivan anymore, and if he was it was covered by so much distrust and anger that he could no longer detect it.

_**1873**_

_Alfred sighed as he walked into the D.C. house, he had just come back from San Francisco on a vacation of sorts with Ivan, they had been supposed to talk business but somehow the whole trip had turned out to be more pleasure than anything else. Abby was there as was Louis, both of them had been taking care of Peter while Alfred had been in California. "Look Peter, it's Daddy." Abby said as she took the baby's small hand and made him wave to Alfred. He couldn't help but laugh at the scene._

_ "Hey Peter, did you miss me?" Alfred asked as he took his son from Abigail, Peter giggled, his sparkling blue eyes held delight for his father. "Gosh, you're getting so big." The silver haired baby looked only to be about a year old though he had been born almost five year before. "Is Theo here?"_

_ "Yes," Abigail replied as if she was mentioning something unsavory, "He's in the dining room I believe." Alfred nodded and wondered if Theo had said something about Abby's relationship with Louis._

_ "I see, thanks." Alfred said as he walked into the house, Louis's sapphire blue eyes narrowed at Theo but the tan boy said nothing to the state of New York before he stalked off to the guest room he was staying in. Alfred was really glad that the only permanent residents of the house was himself and Peter, having all the states here would be crazy and just the few that were here now were bickering with each other._

_ "You know it's time for Peter's nap." Abigail reminded Alfred,_

_ "Right, tell Theo that I'm putting Peter for his nap and I'll be right down to discuss immigration issues." Alfred said, Abby let out a huff and glared in the direction of the dining room where Theo was. Alfred just smiled and laughed to himself as he made his way up the stairs with Peter clinging to his shirt._

_ "Guess what," Alfred said as he tucked Peter into the bassinet, the silver haired baby cocked his head slightly as if confused, "I saw your Daddy this week. He can't know about you." Alfred sighed as he sat down on the rocking chair beside the bassinet. "My bosses won't let me, but I bet if he knew about you, he'd eat you right up and protect you with ever fiber in his body just liked I would. I want to tell him about you so badly; I don't want him to miss anything more with you." He leaned over to pet Peter's hair and push it back. "One day he'll know about you and then we can be a family."_

_**1961**_

Ivan had ruined that dream, the dream of being a family, when he converted to communism, when he decided that just Russia wasn't enough and he threatened Alfred's way of life. And now Ivan knew about Peter, and now Peter was gone. And the empty room only seemed to fuel the anger Alfred felt for his ex-lover. Alfred shut the door and turned from his son's room, heading back to the kitchen. He needed to break something and seeing as he had already wrecked that room a little more couldn't hurt. He wanted to make Ivan hurt like he was hurting, nothing else would give him more pleasure at the moment. His whole body shook as he walked, his hands trembling in fists at his sides just waiting to punch something, something he could imagine looked like Ivan's head. One day he would wipe that stupid smirk off the Russian's face.

"Why?" Alfred shouted as his fist made contact with one of the cabinets, the door broke into two pieces, one part fell on to the counter beneath and the other hung just barely on its hinges. Well the cabinets needed to be remodeled anyway. "Why does it hurt so much?" Was it because his son was taken from him? Or was it because Ivan had been the one to take away his son? It was because of his son was taken from him, Alfred told himself, it wouldn't matter if it had been Ivan or if it had been Sadiq or José or any other country. It hurts more because Ivan took him, a small voice in the back of Alfred's head said. He pushed that voice away quickly; he didn't want to think that he might still harbor feelings for the bastard.

"Alfred." Alfred spun around from where he had been about to take out another cabinet by punching it again to see his brother still sporting wounds from his run in with Natalia. He dropped his fist as he looked over the other blonde's wound. Four days later and there was still a black eye and he was definitely favoring his left side over his right. He wondered what other wounds were hidden by his brother's clothes, wounds he didn't want Alfred to see.

"Matthew, are you sure it's okay for you to be up and about?" Alfred asked, Natalia had done a number on his brother according to Arthur who had come to see Alfred before the American had been off bed rest one day after his run in with Ivan on the wall. That had been three days ago.

"Alfred, becoming a one man wrecking crew isn't healthy." Matthew said ignoring Alfred's question. "You've got to stop this." The Canadian's purple eyes were hard with resolved, he wasn't going to back till he got the result he wanted from Alfred.

"I told everyone I wanted to be alone." Alfred said more harshly then he wanted to. Every time he looked at that bruised eye he was reminded of who he had failed not only as a father, but as a big brother. He had allowed Natalia to attack his brother, to brutalize his brother.

"So you can what, wreck your house some more? Wallow away in your pain? You are angry, and you have every right to be. But you can use that anger to save Peter. We can still save him." Matthew's voice softened as he spoke about his nephew. Matthew also felt that he had let his nephew down by not being able to protect him.

"I always told him I'd be his hero, that I'd save him." Alfred said in a quiet voice to his brother and for the first time in four days Alfred began to feel tears form in his eyes. "I failed him, Matthew, I failed you both. When I was needed to be the hero, I wasn't there and I failed to save what matters the most."

"Even Superman can't save everybody." Matthew said putting a hand on his despondent brother's shoulder. Alfred gave a small shrug. "We can still save Peter, we know who has him and that's usually ninety-nine percent of the problem."

"We're not just going to be able to waltz right into Moscow and demand my son back."

"Does Ivan have any weaknesses we can exploit?"

"One," Alfred let out a long sigh; they would have to find Ivan's heart in order to save his son.

It shouldn't have surprised Ivan that Alfred had raised such a spoiled son in his capitalistic society, it would fall one day. One day everyone would realize that he had been right all along and they would accept him and want to be his friend. The boy had been screaming for the past half hour for something called Halloween, it must have been some brain washing technique in a capitalistic society or something like that. Trick or treating must be some way of helping little kids understand their economy or something. There would be no more 'Halloween' for his son.

"Really?" Gilbert asked Peter as the two sat in their joined bedroom which had once been used by a duke's children and their governess, unaware that Ivan was watching them. He was greatly jealous of how his son had opened up to the Germanic nation but not to him. Peter seemed to shy away from him and never listened to anything he said. A trait he had inherited from Alfred no doubt, Alfred never listened to anyone when he didn't want to.

"Yeah, and then Abby would make cake and the fireworks would go boom." Abby, Ivan had determined, was the girl he had knocked out the time he had tried to take Peter from Alfred's arms. The representation of Alfred's state Massachusetts no doubt. He remembered Alfred talking about her. They were talking about celebrating Alfred's birthday. "We go to Daddy's boss's house too, its big and white and there's lots of people. I like Daddy's boss, he has friends to play with."

"That sounds like fun, Peter. When my brother was little to celebrate his birthday we'd decorate the whole lake beside our house with candles and let them float in the water as we set them adrift." Gilbert said, "He used to make up stories of where the candles went and the adventures they had. Then he grew out of that and he told me it was a waste of candles." Gilbert let out a small laugh. "He's very continuous about wasting stuff. When Old Fritz was still alive, he was my favorite boss I ever had, he would light fireworks from his palace in Potsdam to celebrate my birthday. And sometimes a huge military parade."

"Wow, Daddy always brings cake home to celebrate my birthday and Uncle Mattie and Uncle Francis, and Uncle Arthur come over as well as Abby and Theo and Lilo and all my friends and there's lots of balloons. And Daddy brings me lots of presents." The little boy wrapped his arms around his knees as he spoke about Alfred. "I miss Daddy." Ivan's favorite birthday memory was one between him and Alfred, the American had somehow managed to slip away from D.C to spend Western Christmas and New Years with him, back then their calendars had been different. His birthday fell on New Year's eve and he and Alfred had enjoyed the day together around Saint Petersburg. Alfred had loved the performance of the Nutcracker they had watched together in the Tsar's private viewing.

"You want to know a secret?" Gilbert asked rubbing Peter's silvery hair. "I miss my little brother too." Peter looked up at the older nation, his blue eyes glittering with tears.

"Where's your brother?"

"He lives on the other side of the wall. And I can't see him anymore because my boss and his boss don't get along. But one day I'm sure we'll be able to see each other again just like you'll see your Dad again." Peter looked happier as Gilbert told the young boy his hopes about his brother. Ivan frowned, he did not want Gilbert to see Ludwig anytime soon without Ludwig first coming to the Communist side. But the Russian was more than far aware of how stubborn the Germanic nation could be, Gilbert was extremely stubborn and Ludwig was even more so. Why couldn't Gilbert see that his people were better off on this side of the wall? One day there would no longer be any need for a government and people would do what they were supposed to for honor and duty. And Marxism would have proven triumphant over Alfred and his capitalistic system.

"Why do people not get along?"

"Because people don't always believe in the same thing, and sometimes when people don't always believe in the same thing it causes conflicts and people get hurt. Sometimes it's people we love and other times its strangers. I have seen many wars Peter, more wars then your dad, more wars then could be considered bearable. I could list a dozen reasons as to why people don't get along but I'll never truly be able to answer that question." There was an ancient look in Gilbert's eyes and anyone who knew the obnoxious Prussian well would know that he was telling the truth, he had seen many wars, many conflicts and yet not even he could give an exact reason why humans did not get along, why they fought. Ivan had seen violence many times as he grew up, being under his sister's control, the Golden Hoard, Ivan the Terrible, the expansion of his empire. He had seen what violence did to people at a very young age and perhaps that explained why he had such a hard time understand others, why he came off as scary and strange. But Alfred had always looked past that, and he was somehow able to see the true Ivan, the one who just longed for a friend.

"One day I'm going to find the answer." Peter declared, Gilbert let out a small snort but smiled none the less and rubbed Peter's mop of silver hair.

"You do that kiddo, you do that."

"I'm going to be a hero like Dad and save people from the bad guys. Have you ever been a bad guy?" Ivan watched with amusement as Gilbert visibly paled, despite the fifteen years since the war his people had not forgotten the brutality of the invading German army.

"Yes," Peter let out a small gasp and backed slightly away from Gilbert. "My brother and I had been humiliated years before by your uncles Francis and Arthur and a little by your father, we wanted retribution. It wasn't right what we did, we started a war, a war that devastated Europe, but more than that our boss ordered the mass killings of innocent people. But your father, he was our hero; he saved my brother and I from our dark places and showed us kindness when we deserved none. Your father is a hero, to many people. He should never stop, and I think that it's very smart of you to want to follow in his footsteps."

"Really?" Peter asked scooting back closer to Gilbert. "Daddy saved you, is that why he left for a while and Abby watched me and I was alone for a while?" Gilbert nodded, Ivan could have laughed, when Alfred set out for World War Two he had no intentions to save Gilbert or Ludwig, he had been out for revenge on those who had dared attack his country. Of course through the four years he fought he decided that he needed to play the hero with Germany as well because the rest of Europe was enough for him. If Ivan had his way, neither Ludwig or Gilbert would ever see the light of day again and Germany would be just another country in a long line of nations who had tried to control that region. Even Francis who had been anti-German for the past century had voted against Ivan's idea. Damn fickle French. One day he would have his true revenge on the German people and their constant invasions.

"Gilbert, I would prefer if you didn't spread lies in my son's head." Ivan said stepping out of the shadows where he had been hiding for a good part of their conversation. Peter let out an audible gasp that Ivan chose to ignore for the time being. And then he kicked Gilbert's gut and the Germanic nation groaned in pain while Peter let out a cry in horror. This would be a lesson to them both about pushing the limits in his household.

"Stop!" Peter cried, tears had already sprung to the toddler's eyes.

"What lies?" Gilbert managed to gasp out before Ivan's next onslaught of attacks against his rib cage.

"Alfred is no hero." Ivan spat, "If he was, you wouldn't be here would you." Ivan smirked as he saw the hatred in Gilbert's eyes. What he hadn't expected was the tiny fist the felt in his side, a tiny fist that had packed a hard punch. He whirled on his assailant only to find Peter stand there, tears leaking out of his eyes and his tiny hands balled into a fist at his sides.

"Leave Mr. Gilbie alone!" Peter shouted in his childish voice, "My Daddy is too a hero, and he's going to save me."

"Your father will never make it this far into the Soviet Union. I doubt he'll even leave the safety of West Berlin." Ivan growled, "He is a coward who hides behinds his own set of morals, he oppresses his people when they should be free from the bondage of social class." There was a wild look in Peter's eyes, a look that reminded him of Alfred, the way Alfred would defend with his life something that he loved. Before when he had be the Russian Empire Alfred had only ever looked at him once like that and that had been when Ivan had suggested that he should punish the southern nations for rebelling against him. Ivan never brought up the subject again; it wasn't his place to tell Alfred how his nation was to be run.

"Liar, Daddy's coming." Peter said and there wasn't a shred of doubt in his voice. He had every faith that Alfred would come for him, and Ivan didn't doubt it. He knew Alfred well enough, no crossing of enemy lines would prevent him from kicking down his door to take Peter back, he would have to try to sprout the seeds of doubt in Peter some other way.

"Leave the kid alone." Gilbert managed to gasp out, sitting up.

"I'm sending you to Siberia," Ivan growled, Gilbert snorted but made no other response before Ivan left Peter's room. He would come back later to talk to the boy, to tell him the truth about his parentage, the real reason why he was so desperate to take him from Alfred.

Ivan sighed, he was sitting in his study, his boss was making some kind of deal with the new Cuban Communist government, something top secret and would take a few months. Alfred's failed Bay of Pigs had left a bad taste in José's mouth especially since Alfred now had Guantanamo Bay. Not his problem. If any secret deal was made Khrushchev would let him know. Ivan liked the bald man who had taken over after Stalin died well enough. He didn't inflict pain on Ivan for the fun of it or strike terror in the hearts of every man, but he didn't back down either very well. The U2 spy plane situation had been fun to watch Alfred try to squirm his way out. And he loved the fact that they were watching the Western World nervous with their more advanced space program. He would beat Alfred to the moon and back, how could he not? He had beaten the idiot to everything else up there no matter what the Capitalist Pig and his Nazi scientist did.

He wished he could say that he had squashed out every bit of love out of his heart for the American man, it would make Alfred's destruction that much easier. But part of him yearned for Alfred's touch, the light fingers dancing against his skin, the warm laughter that made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

_**1859**_

_ Alfred's naked body lay flush against his, their breath's ragged as they came down from euphoric highs. There was laughter on Alfred's lips though no real sound came out and he looked happy, happier then Ivan had seen him in a long time. The tension that had spread through his country had taken its toll on the normally happy man. Ivan smiled back happy that only he had ever seen his precious sunflower like this. Alfred lifted his right arm slightly to touch Ivan's cheek. "Wow," he said breathily._

_ "You should come to Russia more often, I miss you a lot." Ivan said, "And our house is very big when it's just me." Alfred gave Ivan a small smile and pushed some of his silver hair back. _

_ "I've almost got all the details worked out with Theo and Charles, and then I'll move here and we'll never have to leave our world." Alfred promised, Ivan couldn't say that he didn't like the idea of Alfred living with him at the hunting lodge in the Urals, but he worried what would happen to America if Alfred stopped caring about it. He'd never heard of a nation abandoning their country, leaving someone else in charge. And though some may consider Ivan a selfish man, he did care about the state of the world. Well as Alfred said, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it._

_ "Hm, sounds nice." Ivan said closing his eyes and Alfred slid his hand down Ivan's chest. Did he want to go another round?_

_ "Laura will send us sunflowers every summer." Ivan nodded, leaning his head back as the American began tracing a particular scar he earned in the Seven Years War from Gilbert. And then he felt Alfred's breath on his face and he opened one eye to see the American hovering over him, he leaned up and pressed his lips to Alfred's before grabbing the tan shoulders above him and quickly rolling over so their positions were now swapped. There was no way Alfred would ever be on top._

_**1961**_

Ivan stood outside of Peter's room, his hand on the door knob as he entered an inner struggle about what he was about to do. He had never been so unsure of himself, of a situation of anything. He liked to be in control, even when he actually wasn't he was able to make everyone believe he was. It made Alfred furious how calm he seemed when he was losing it. He had to do this, he had to tell Peter the truth, the boy deserved that much. He wouldn't hide the truth, not like Alfred did.

"Peter," Ivan said opening the door; the little boy looked up from where he had been playing with some wooden, alphabet blocks. The letters were Roman letter; Katyusha hadn't thought it was a good idea to confuse Peter with another alphabet system. That would come later when he was acclimating Peter to Russia.

"Go away," Peter said.

"Did Alfred ever talk about your father?" Ivan asked stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him.

"He's my Daddy." Peter replied pretending not to notice that Ivan had sat down beside him. Ivan laughed a little to himself.

"What about you other Daddy?" the word felt strange on Ivan's tongue, but it was American vernacular that had come about after Ivan had been learning English. Peter gave him a strange look.

"He's lost," Ivan raised one of his silver eyebrows. Lost?

"What do you mean?" Peter gave a small shrug.

"Daddy said he was lost, that he was no longer here and that one day he would come back, that Daddy would save him, and then we could be a family. But he hasn't come back." Ivan felt his heart drop; Alfred still believed that he could save him? Why? Hadn't he shown him already that _Vanya_ was gone? "Daddy says we have the same color hair." Peter pulled at his silver cowlick. "You have silver hair too. So does Mr. Gilbie," Peter babbled, "but he's not my other Daddy cause he loves Uncle Mattie. He's sad though because he can't see Uncle Mattie."

"Peter, what if I told you that instead of Alfred finding your other Daddy, your other Daddy found you?" Ivan asked awkwardly reaching his hand out to touch Peter's hands. The boy cocked his head as if his mind was trying to work out Ivan's words.

"Then why don't I see him?" Peter asked innocently,

"You do, he's sitting right beside you." Peter's blue orbs opened very wide and his mouth fell agape as he looked at Ivan.

**Author's Note (The part of the story where the author comes out and writes a silly note): I called Werner von Braun a Nazi scientist! He's one of my heroes (and he was a Nazi scientist sort of… shhhhhh), Werner von Braun developed the V-2 rockets for Germany during World War Two, but he was more interested in space then he was in warfare and he surrendered to the Americans very quickly because he knew they'd have the money to fund his dream to go to space. His other greatest creations took us to the moon and back. Whether or not he was a hero or not is up to you to decide, I love him, I think his dream was amazing. But anyway… we saw a very angry Alfred (which was interesting to write because in the first draft had I had him crying the whole time, wrote the whole darn thing (minus the part with Ivan) and then realized that I had totally written his character wrong) I like this version better. If you want to imagine the type of refridgator he's beating up just think of the one Indiana Jones used to escape the Hydrogen bomb testing in the fourth Indiana Jones movie (if you still don't know what type I'm talking about look it up) (Those are some indestructible refrigerators). And no, I'm not creating a pattern that every other chapter has flash back sequences, it's just working out that way right now.**

** On another note, I'm in the thick of marching band season so my next update might take a while. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to finish this one anytime soon with the way my schedule is.**


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